Peppermint Pancakes
by AllieLivier
Summary: Clarke's apartment is undergoing some work and has to stay with Bellamy for the holidays. She wakes up one morning to him making peppermint pancakes shirtless, with a Santa hat on. Now they both have to decide if crossing the line between friendship and relationship is worth the risk. CHRISTMAS FIC.


Clarke woke up suddenly, jolting up from the bed as she tried to level herself. Her head felt fuzzy but that had more to do with the fact she drank half a bottle of Vodka the night before. Then the sound of "Jingle Bells," reached her ears. Clarke groaned before falling back into the warmth of her blankets, rubbing her face against them. She closed her eyes and tried to block out the noise, but then Bellamy's voice joined the chorus.

"Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way!" he sang.

"Really?" Clarke groaned from her place on the couch.

She had been staying at Bellamy's apartment for about two weeks while her place was being fixed up. A pipe had burst in her kitchen that had flooded everything in her small place. Bellamy was the only one out of their group of friends who lived closest to her work.

"Not feeling the Christmas spirit, are we?" Bellamy said in a mocking tone.

"Not at the moment," she muttered, rubbing her temples.

"Late night?" Bellamy paused in the kitchen. He had a bowl in his hand and he was stirring the batter in it with a Santa hat on his head. And he was shirtless.

Clarke smiled slightly. She couldn't help but admit that Bellamy looked absolutely adorable.

The island counter was covering his lower half but Clarke couldn't help enticing the fantasy of her walking around that counter to find him completely naked.

She shook her thoughts away. "I guess you could say that." Clarke swallowed, trying to get rid of that cotton feel in her mouth.

Last night had been a tough one for her. She had just gotten off the phone with her mom, another argument about Clarke's life choices, and the bitter mood followed her until Raven invited her out to drink at the local bar. In hindsight, it seemed like a good idea. But the pounding in her head and the dryness in her throat filled Clarke with regret.

She rose from the couch and dragged herself to the fridge where she pulled herself a water bottle.

"You almost knocked down the Christmas tree last night," Bellamy said, smirking.

Clarke's eyes widened.

"I came out to make sure the tree was okay and you were already passed out on the couch," he chuckled.

"Oh god," Clarke groaned, burying her head in her hands. "I am so sorry, Bell. I talked to my mom yesterday and things didn't end well."

Bellamy waved a hand at her before dropping some batter onto the heated pan. "You don't have to explain. I've met your mom."

Clarke was fully aware that Bellamy knew her mom. He had met her mom several times and each time had left Abby a little more resentful toward Bellamy and Bellamy a little more standoffish around Abby. But Bellamy saw the effect Abby's words had on Clarke and he hated what it did to her.

"What was it about this time?" he asked.

"The fact I didn't call her when my pipe burst and I needed a place to stay."

"So she's mad you called me," Bellamy guessed.

Clarke sighed before nodding. "But I'm not going to let her bully me into staying with her. I made my choice and I don't regret asking you."

Bellamy's smile widened and he turned to face his pancakes again.

Clarke watched him work as she sipped her water. She and Bellamy had grown closer over the past couple months. She had opened herself up to him in ways that surprised her. She told him all about her dad, about the rift that formed between her and her mom after her dad's death, about losing Wells, even about the heartbreak she faced when Finn was in her life, and the damage he left behind once he was out of it.

It scared her sometimes how easily she could tell Bellamy things. It scared her even more when she felt a yearning to tell him things. When she got a promotion at work two months ago, he was the first person she called. When she had finally finished off a painting she had trouble getting through, she called him. Even when her mom would say a few nasty words to her and ruin her day, she'd call Bellamy and feel a little better.

But Clarke kept telling herself to keep those feelings in check. Admitting that she saw Bellamy in any way more than a friend meant jeopardizing the stable friendship Clarke had come to rely on to keep her sane. Plus, she wasn't even entirely sure that he felt anything like that towards her. But then Bellamy would say something that _sounded_ flirty, or do things for her like buy her drinks at the bar and help navigate her through the crowds with a hand on her lower back, or _look_ at her a certain way that set her on fire. Much like he was now.

"Next time, call me before you hit the bottle, okay?" he said, voice low.

Clarke scolded herself. Thoughts in check, she reminded herself. Thoughts like before, about Bellamy being naked behind the counter? Those kinds of thoughts needed to stay just that – thoughts. For the sake of their friendship, it had to stay that way.

Clarke shook her hair back over her shoulders and stood beside Bellamy. She dipped a finger into the batter. "Why? Did you want to drink with me?" she teased, trying to make the mood as light as possible despite Bellamy's intense gaze.

But it was hard. He looked at her like he was trying to melt away her armor. So she took the batter on her finger and smeared it across his cheek.

His eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

Her giggles filled the small kitchen and a new fire lit up in Bellamy's eyes. He dipped his hand into the batter.

"Bell," Clarke warned, backing up. "Don't."

Bellamy lunged after her and gave chase as she ran around the island counter. Her laughter carried throughout the apartment even after she squealed as his arm came around her waist. He crushed her to him and trapped her against the counter. His battered hand slathered her cheek and neck with the sticky goop and he laughed at her loud gasp.

"I think your little stunt earlier puts you on the naughty list this year," Bellamy said. His breath fanned over Clarke's flushed face, heating her skin.

"And where does this put you?" Clarke asked, eyes pointing towards the batter on her face.

"Oh, I'm always on the naughty list, princess," he breathed.

Clarke was fully aware of the arm still wrapped around her and the feeling of entrapment, as he pressed closer toward her against the counter. Bellamy's eyes had darkened and Clarke saw the way they kept darting toward her lips. She tried her damn hardest not give in, to keep pushing her feelings down, but then his battered thumb caressed her lower lip so slowly and softly, that it made Clarke's chest swell.

With no regard to her previous thoughts of smashing her feelings down, Clarke kept her eyes locked on Bellamy and she sucked his thumb into her mouth.

Bellamy growled at her until she released his thumb with a loud pop.

Then Clarke's eyes widened. Holy shit. Oh holy shit. Clarke scrambled to come up with an excuse but it was no use. She had done it. She had crossed that line.

There were so many fears and doubts that had just started to swim in her head when Bellamy silenced them all with the lightest of touches. Fear of rejection, doubts of his feelings, fear that she had ruined the good friendship they had just created, it all evaporated as the warmth and softness of Bellamy's lips caressed her own. It was a chaste kiss, almost barely there.

It was over before Clarke could really react. Bellamy pulled away, his eyes watching her with an openness that shook Clarke to the core. It was a new type of vulnerability she had never seen on Bellamy.

Clarke realized how much power Bellamy was giving her, how much they were giving each other. They trusted each other not to break each other's heart. But that was the last thing either of them wanted to do; they cared too much about each other.

"Clarke," Bellamy whispered. He took a step back, already feeling his own panic rise. He feared he had screwed them both up with that kiss. Sure, Clarke may have made the first move, but what if she was just looking for a one-time thing. That would break Bellamy's heart more than anything. He wouldn't be able to give Clarke a one-time thing; he would need so much more than one time. Bellamy wanted forever.

Clarke squeezed her eyes shut. But she had already seen the vulnerability in Bellamy's eyes – it was unavoidable now. It was now or never. And the thoughts of 'never' plagued her heart far more than taking a chance would.

She surged up and crushed her lips to his. There was no gentleness, nothing chaste about the way she twisted her lips over his. It was giving in. It was letting go. It was risking it all.

Clarke jumped off the edge and prayed with everything in her that Bellamy would jump off with her.

They clutched each other. Clarke ignored the goopy feel of the pancake batter sliding along her baggy t-shirt, but she couldn't ignore it when Bellamy bit down on her lip and she opened up to him. Her mouth opened and she was swarmed with the taste of Bellamy and peppermint.

She giggled into the kiss. He was making peppermint pancakes for Christmas.

"What's so funny?" Bellamy asked, breathless. He leaned his forehead against Clarke's.

"Nothing. I just love your holiday cheer," she smiled.

Bellamy nuzzled the side of Clarke's neck. "I think we need to work on your cheer," he muttered against her skin.

There would be so much to talk about in the coming days, Clarke realized. But for now, she wanted to drown in the feelings Bellamy drowned her in. His adoration, his desire, Clarke even allowed herself to say his love, had all wrapped itself around her in a cocoon and she never felt warmer.

But then Clarke registered that the air around them had gotten significantly hotter. And smokier?

"Shit!" she yelled. "Bellamy, the pancakes!"

It was like dousing the moment in ice-cold water. Bellamy pulled away and ran to shut the stove off but it was too late. The pancake was charred and Bellamy cursed under his breath.

He dumped the burnt pancake into the trash and left the pan in the sink to cool off under the water. He shut the water off with a sigh.

Something felt tense in the air. It was like the moment of separation had given both Bellamy and Clarke the time to realize what line had just been crossed. Even though it felt more like that line had been obliterated than just crossed.

Bellamy hunched over the sink and sighed. "Clarke," he started.

Clarke reacted first, her walls already coming back up. "Don't, Bellamy," she said. "We don't have to talk about it. We can just forget it." She had already started turning away when she felt Bellamy's hand shoot out and grab her wrist.

"What if I don't want to forget?" he said so low Clarke almost didn't catch it.

She blinked several times, adamant that she heard him wrong. But then he crept closer to her. His hand took hold of her waist, caressing the curves there.

In a bold move that surprised Clarke herself, she whispered back "then let's not forget." And she then she felt his lips.

She wasn't sure who kissed whom, but it was like igniting a fire in danger of getting out of hand.

"Wait," Bellamy said, kissing the skin along her neck.

Clarke pulled away, a questioning look in her eyes.

"You know this isn't a one-time thing for me, right? I-" he hesitated. "I'm all in here."

Clarke let out a sigh of relief. She laughed breathlessly. "Bell, have you ever known me to do one-night stands?"

"That's not the answer I want to hear, princess," he growled.

She cleared her throat. "I want you, Bell. All of you. I'm all in."

Bellamy smiled widely, teeth gleaming before he kissed her again with a whole new fervor. It felt so right. It felt whole and greater than any other kisses they had encountered in their lives and when their tongues collided, they both groaned.

Suddenly Clarke felt her feet leave the ground and she instinctively wrapped her legs around Bellamy's waist, letting her hips roll slightly into his.

The growl that rumbled through his chest made Clarke curl her toes and roll her hips again.

Bellamy's hands gripped her ass and he pushed her forward, pressing her tightly against his growing erection. "I wanted to do this the right way but I can't," he said, voice in anguish. "I need you now."

Clarke whimpered against his lips and tore her shirt away from her chest. "I need you too," she said.

Everything became a jumbled mess of flying clothes, moans, and hot touches. Clarke felt herself arching into every touch, craving more. Once Bellamy had yanked off his shorts, his erection springing free, Clarke's eyes darkened.

She reached a hand down between them and gave his cock a few strokes.

"Clarke," he breathed.

Then Clarke noticed the Santa hat still on his head. She chuckled and kissed his forehead. "I feel like I'm fucking Santa," she laughed.

"There is no way Santa looks as good as me," Bellamy said, biting down on her neck. He was trying his hardest to leave a mark on her. His need to claim her had blindsided him but he didn't hear her complaining. At least not yet. She might tomorrow.

When Bellamy moved to take the hat off, Clarke stopped him. "Keep it on," she ordered.

Bellamy's brow lifted before he chuckled. "You're a lot naughtier than I thought."

"You don't know the half of it," she teased.

"I'm ready to find out," he said.

He pealed away her pajama shorts and panties along with them before laying her flat on the kitchen counter. Without waiting for direction from Bellamy, Clarke spread her legs, planting the heels of her feet over Bellamy's shoulder, already dragging him in.

"Naughty, naughty," Bellamy teased, smirking. But he was already closer to where Clarke needed him.

She felt Bellamy's nose skimming along the skin of her thigh and moving closer and closer and she felt herself clench in anticipation.

When he finally touched his mouth to her, Clarke rose clear off the counter, her shoulders supporting her. Bellamy drank everything in. Her smell, her arousal, her noises, they were all so perfectly Clarke. She reached a hand into his curls and directed his head exactly where she needed him most, and when he slipped his tongue in at the right spot, her thighs tightened around his head. She controlled this, and Bellamy wasn't surprised at all.

Taking her over the edge and seeing her fall apart, Bellamy swore into her cunt, thinking he had never seen anything more beautiful than Clarke in orgasm. He kissed his way back up to her lips and they clashed their tongues together. Their mingled tastes made both of them groan into the kiss.

"How long have you been hiding this?" Bellamy asked, gruffly against her lips.

Clarke responded breathlessly, still reeling from her orgasm. "Hiding what?"

"How you've felt," he said.

Clarke laughed and shook her head. "Sometimes it feels like always," she admitted. "But it really didn't hit me until I realized I never wanted to imagine my life without you," she said, intensely. Clarke hoped the seriousness of her words came through. She clutched onto Bellamy's body and breathed him in, dropping a kiss to his shoulder. She caressed his sides and let her hands travel up his back.

The tenderness she used with him nearly made Bellamy weep. He was so in love with her.

"It's the same for me," he said. "I don't plan on letting you go, Clarke," he said, hands tightening around her hips.

As he moved closer to her, the very tip of his cock teased her. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she tried to drag him in more.

"Fuck. Just," he started, gulping. "Wait here. I have to get –"

Clarke cut him off with a bruising kiss. "I have an IUD and I trust you, Bell. I know you haven't been with anyone in a while," she said almost timidly.

He stopped short. "How would you know that?"

Clarke shrugged innocently. "Octavia may have told me how not getting laid in months has put you in a sour mood."

"Unbelievable," he muttered. "You're discussing my sex life with my sister."

"I'm not discussing anything with her!" she defended. "She just happened to mention it. And besides," she said, rolling her hips, his cock breaching in farther. "I'm about to become your sex life, so it doesn't really matter anymore."

Bellamy laughed, the sound warming Clarke's heart. "No arguments about that," he said.

Bellamy sank into Clarke's warmth. The tug and pull of her inner walls nearly drove him off the edge already, but he bit down on his lip and groaned into her neck. He gripped her thigh in one hand and yanked it up near his ribs to deepen the angle. When he slammed into her, Clarke yelped. She clutched Bellamy by his shoulder, letting her hand trail up to his curls. She gave it a light yank just as he slammed into her again.

With the way Clarke clenched around him, and the way she pulled on his curls, her hips lifting to meet his hard thrusts, Bellamy wasn't going to last. She just felt too good. He reached a hand between them and rubbed Clarke's clit in slow circles.

Clarke cursed under her breath and begged Bellamy to go faster, harder, deeper.

They climaxed together and Bellamy couldn't remember the last time he came at the same time as his partner. Then again, he should have known it would happen like this. It was Clarke after all. He felt her hot breath against his neck and her cunt spasm every so often around his cock. It was almost the best feeling in the world. But then Clarke laid her head against his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around her.

That became the best feeling in the world to them.

A tremor went through them as Bellamy pulled out.

"Damn," he said against her skin.

Clarke giggled. "I know what you mean. We were idiots to ignore this."

Bellamy nodded vigorously. He pulled back to look at her. The blue in her eyes was so bright and so God damn beautiful that Bellamy knew he had a stupid grin on his face. "Merry Christmas, Clarke," he said.

Clarke didn't care if her smile looked just as goofy. She caressed his cheek. "Merry Christmas, Bellamy."

Bellamy suddenly lifted Clarke off the counter. "You know you have to clean that later, right?" he said.

Clarke pouted. "Uh, you're the one who couldn't wait to fuck me in the bedroom, so you clean it," she argued.

"Of course it's my fault. You're the one too sexy for her own good," he mumbled, kissing her neck.

When he reached his bedroom, he dumped her on the bed, enjoying the way her breast bounced with the action.

Clarke's eyed widened at his already growing erection. "Again?" she said.

"Baby, I'm no where near done with you," he growled, laying his body flat over hers.

Clarke sighed against the glorious weight. "You know I love you right?" she said, smiling.

Bellamy caressed her lips with his thumb, smirking as he remembered what she did with that same thumb just moments earlier, starting the whole thing. So would this mean Clarke made the first move? Bellamy thought. He shook his head. "I know," he answered.

Clarke didn't need to hear him say it back. She heard it in his response. And with that, she wrapped her arms around Bellamy's shoulders and spread her legs wide.

He kissed the heck out of her and whispered against her lips, "I love you so much." And he sank deep inside her.

They were home.


End file.
